


Arches

by Eureka234



Category: Keyflame
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Emotional Sex, F/M, First Time, Making Love, One Shot, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24056122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eureka234/pseuds/Eureka234
Summary: Kalin and Lilah concede to their feelings and a greater force that connects them both. NSFW.
Relationships: Kalin/Lilah
Kudos: 1





	Arches

**Author's Note:**

  * For [withah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withah/gifts).



> I wasn't content to leave the love scene in Keyflame as fade-to-black so I've written my own version of what I imagine happened. Enjoy! 
> 
> The title is based off the song quoted below.

_Darkened weather arches_   
_Redeeming an old debt of the sun_   
_To take a drink from your well_   
_Like water you will run_

_\- Arches, Agnes Obel_

There is no time. Not for me, or even Kalin. He'd lived for so many years already, yet his movement is more urgent than someone on the brink of destruction. 

I hurry backwards. Carefully, I take many small steps to prevent slipping on something. The back of my heel occasionally brushes against his clothes on the floor. It is a sign I am edging nearer and nearer to his bedroom. He follows me, his hands on my shoulders. We steal kisses every few paces, as though outside forces are trying to physically pull us away. Voracious and desperate. 

We don't talk. My thoughts are wild, even if they never complete themselves.

_Is the bed a…_

Kiss. 

_How many times has…_

His tongue slips between my teeth.

I stumble. A book slides from the desk as I hit the corner of it. 

"Ouch!" 

Thump. The book has met its downfall. Rustling comes next. Papers. 

I stub my toe on a necklace that has fallen to the floor. It’s murky here, the room shrouded by the closed, dusty curtains. 

"Lilah," Kalin breathes.

I see worry in his eyes. Maybe he cares that I keep knocking into his work space, that I keep breaking his belongings. My stomach twists, preparing for that unsexy conversation. 

"Have you…" he begins. Nothing, then, “Do you need to slow down?” 

_Do I need to, or do you want me to?_

After risking my life twice, tasting death in my throat, I have never cared so little for my lack of experience. Isn't confidence supposed to make a difference when taking a lover into a bed? Passion overrides knowledge, or so they say.

 _Until I make a mistake_ , I think. I hope Kalin isn’t the kind of guy to mind about experience. 

“No.” 

I lift my shirt. Boring bra on display, where the elastic has had it, and my excuse for breasts. 

"Take it," I say, like it's a love letter. Kalin grips the underside of my shirt from nearest my shoulder and lifts it off. The cool air whips my chest like when after he had splashed me with water in the mountains.

_Anything else you want to throw at me?_

At the last moment, I grasp my shirt back and throw it at his face. An easily evaded attack. He laughs, as it falls to the floor. Serious Kalin disappears. 

“You lost the momentum because it’s not wet,” he remarks. 

He remembers. This makes me smile wider than anything he could ever say. 

“I don’t need water to create momentum.” 

_Why is CINDY talking now?_

Because of him. Kalin makes me find my inner-Cindy. He has found the glass slipper - hidden in a memory where we are free, distanced from those who want to hurt us. Gently, like to not frighten me, he steps back to close the door behind him, and locks it. 

Stepping over my shirt, the rattle of his feet on the floorboards makes more papers from the desk flutter onto the floor. Leaves blowing in a secluded forest. We hold each other. Our lips lock. Eyes closed, I rummage for the bottom of his shirt though he is a step ahead of me. He pulls it off from nearer his chest. The fabric brushes my nose. His hair somehow gets caught in the collar. Cursing under his breath, I tangle my fingers in his hair, caressing it, like to release a knot. It would undo. And it did. He is shirtless and beautiful. I admire the way the shadows cast patterns over his shoulders, chest and waist. 

"What's next?" I mutter. I hope it sounds alluring and not that I didn't have any idea what I was doing. My mind blanks, like it does in the middle of an exam. I have read my fair share of romance novels, but I don't _know_ Kalin. I have no idea about how to make his body quiver at my touch or to gasp in ecstacy. 

"Whatever you want," Kalin replies, with a flicker of a grin in the remaining light. That airiness to his tone. It was so pleasantly familiar. 

"You," I say. 

We race to remove each other’s clothes. My fingers latch onto his trousers and his to my jeans. My hand hesitates at his bulge. Is that going to hurt? I wonder. The bleeding when having sex the first time is a lie - but maybe pain is possible.

"Do you like sitting up or…" Kalin trails off.

Sex positions. He thinks I must have a preference. I can only think of three kinds. 

"I want to keep kissing you."

"Here then," he agrees. The back of my knees hit the bed. Since he won’t, I unzip my jeans. I lose my breath every passing moment, and less air comes in. I yearn for him to see my body so he can touch me. I need to remove every last piece of clothing on him so I can beckon him closer, so make what is separating us by skin melt away. The thought entices a rapid vortex within my chest and ribcage - not temptation, but magic. 

I kiss him, and my skin prickles as my fingers reach his bare chest, his belly, his hips. Kalin fingers dance over my love handles, my bra strap. He doesn't unclip it. 

Breaking our kiss, he forms a full sentence. "How far would you like to take this?"

I swallow. Confidence. Be like Cindy. But I can't. I am dorky Lilah. 

"What do you mean?" I say with a smile. 

"What are you comfortable with?" He asks. 

Who should enter my head at that moment but ‘friend zoned’ _Darren_. If he had asked that same question, we could have avoided a fight and maybe I wouldn't have run away from him. Kalin pauses everything and searches my expression for a reaction. He must know I am clueless. His kind, slightly concerned look is too much. 

"Darren was my first kiss," I blurt out, "with anyone."

Nothing else had happened. I hope I didn't have to repeat it.

Silence. 

"Um, that's okay," he glances away and touches my cheek. "That doesn't change my earlier question, believe it or not."

I flush, if that was possible to happen more now. I try to find the words.

"I am comfortable with trying everything," I reply, and I keep my hand on him. "I trust you."

Kalin chuckles. "Lilah, you know that's as helpful as saying you don't care what type of pizza I order for take-away."

_Which means it isn't useful information at all_

I sigh. "Sorry. I am not used to this."

"Not used to explaining what you want for takeaway?"

Why does he have to smile so much? He probably thinks I am stupid. Or maybe he is trying to normalise the conversation by relating it to something we had discussed multiple times. That I secretly have some idea and preferences, I just don’t want to think about it or say them. 

I reach behind me, brushing his fingers and unclip my bra. Arms forward, it falls to the floor. His eyelids widen ever so slightly, and it's obvious that he is intrigued. I feel slightly self conscious. I haven't really thought about it until now, but I hope he doesn't care about that one stray hair near my right nipple, or that my boobs are not shaped to be perfectly rounded. Somehow, this worry intensifies the heat in me, the swirling magic. 

"Your breasts are lovely," he says.

 _Thank you,_ I think. In gratitude, my nerves overcome me.

"I can only think of three positions," I confess, feeling foolish. 

Kalin laughs. "That wasn't what I was asking, but it can be a starting point. Are there any of those you _don't_ want?"

"Erm…" I gulp. "If they're not good? Isn't missionary meant to be boring and bad?"

Kalin grins. "It depends how you do it."

"There's more than one way to do missionary?" I ask, dumbfounded. This could be one of those obvious things that I have been too ignorant to learn in my introverted life. Maybe this is one of those details that make perfect sense in Jess's world, but not in mine.

"Yes," Kalin affirms. "If you are comfortable to do that, I can show you."

_Sex. With Kalin. The 'boring' position._

The reality feels ever closer, not further away. The thought makes my body warm with anticipation. I could still kiss him, and hold him close while he is inside - and I just had to lie there, supposedly. 

I ponder some more about the two other positions. Some guys would supposedly think having a woman on top is sexy, but I don't know what Kalin thinks is attractive. 

"Is there a position you like?" I ask, my voice becoming calmer.

Kalin holds onto my hands and places them on his legs. He lets go and I begin to move them up closer to where his underwear is. "Lilah, sex positions aren't as important as you might have been told they are. It gives us a starting point, that's all. Don't worry about it."

I want to believe him so badly.

_But…_

Through the series of boy dramas Jess has at unfortunate times told me about her past experiences of sex - whether someone was 'good' or 'bad' at it. I could never add thought to these conversations besides 'that's good' or 'that sucks' - I don't know what the difference is. Now I think I _should_ be worried about the fabled skill needed. Kalin has experienced multiple lives and he has arrogant level standards - why wouldn't this be the same? Unless he'd sworn himself to celibacy when he became cursed, he had the potential to be more experienced than any human. The intimidation is greater than excitement. 

"I don't want to be bad at it," I admit. I surprise myself with the anxiety in my voice. My throat is strained, and water flows to my eyes. I rest my hands at the top of Kalin's boxers. I am suddenly too terrified to pull them down. The first sex scene is so romantic in books and movies. I have failed as coming across as an alluring virgin to strike temptation in the hearts of men. I am awful at sex and we haven't started. I sit down on the bed and do nothing.

 _Maybe this is Darren's fault_ , I think bitterly.

Kalin removes my hands from his boxers and climbs onto the bed on his knees. He wraps his arms around me and stays there for a moment. I want to prevent crying at a moment like this, so I force them down. I focus on breathing. Slowly. Out. Then I let the air return to me. His bare chest is against mine. It feels relaxing. He's warm. I wonder if that means I feel cold.

"I love you," Kalin tells me. "What matters to me the most is that I have you in my arms. Thrills of the flesh are nothing - the greatest high is being with you, whatever form that takes. So long as it's with you, that's all I need. Whatever happens will be perfect." I hold him nearer, taking in the words. "You don't have to do anything you are not comfortable with. We can stop now if you like. I won't be upset if we do."

"No," I protest. I kiss his neck, then his cheek. My mouth tingles with the magic, as if soaking him in. "It's the only thing I am completely sure I want to do. I have been thinking about it for so long. I need to know what it's like _with you_ \- now - because I love you too. I can't have you disappear without ever having done this."

Kalin sighs and kisses my cheek back. He grabs my face and gazes at me with an intense, penetrative look. My heart falters. 

"What?" I ask.

"That is the sexiest, most undorky sentence I have ever heard you say, Lilah," Kalin says, seriously. He grins. "Missionary it is."

I groan in embarrassment, then laugh, as our lips meet once more. With each one our kisses become deeper, harder, longer. I feel feverish in my need for him. Kalin moves away from me to lower his boxers and I pull down my jeans and underwear. There's a big wet patch on them. I try to fold them out of sight so Kalin doesn't see - a really stupid idea in hindsight considering what we are about to do. The fragrance of sex is in the air, as if Kalin has already ravaged me. 

I probably should have showered earlier, I thought. Then Kalin is standing naked in front of me. His erection doesn't seem to embarrass him, unlike my body reaction. He even has some pearly white fluid reflecting the light around the top of his foreskin. His body is shining in sweat. He smiles at me and moves his hands up and down my legs. They are covered in sweat too. Our skin meeting is slippery, sticky. What was happening? I feel my magic sway back and forth between us, waves crashing in the distance, pulling us closer. 

"Do you have… protection?" I ask. All these questions that people in movies never use are easier to say. 

"Yes," Kalin said, like suddenly remembering. He leans forward and traces patterns into my belly. A spell, no doubt. An undeniable sense of shelter encases me. Not wanting to lie here like a useless virgin, I trail my fingers down to my entrance and start to feel around. The fluid is thick, and seems to be leaking out… onto the bed covers. Fortunately he doesn’t act as though he is too attached to them. Taking a deep breath, I glide a finger inside, trying to relax. I think of Kalin. His fingers being there instead. His hard penis. Hot. Needing us to connect. 

My breath deepens. 

Then, his low voice is loud, "You really couldn't wait."

My eyes fly open and I jerk my fingers out. "Sorry - I was trying to…"

_Not be a useless virgin._

_Keep myself occupied_

_Think about you_

"I didn't say you should stop," Kalin replies. I meet his gaze, and his hand is gently tugging his foreskin. "I wasn't disappointed."

He likes it. For a moment I think he is perverse, before I realise how my blood boils at the sight of his hardened member. He is getting ready to be inside me, just like I am preparing for him. We both need it fiercely. The anticipation is a thrill unto itself.

"Close your eyes," Kalin says, calmly. "When you feel my knuckles against yours, remove your fingers."

I trust him completely. I accept that he knows more. He can teach me, but most of all we can connect with each other - and everything will be perfect. 

Following his instruction, I continue to move my fingers inside, slowly to begin with, though I move gradually faster as Kalin's breath deepens with mine. With one hand he positions my left leg wider, then the right. His touch sends jolts down my spine into my hips, and a magnetic pull relents to his touch, inviting Kalin closer. My wrist aches but I don’t care. I arch my back and neck. Listening to Kalin turns the pleasure into sparks. I imagine him inside. It makes the torture worse. I moan, then try and stop myself. I sound dumb. I sound like a porn actress. I sound…

"That noise is how badly you need me," Kalin remarks, running his fingers along the inside of my thigh. "Let me hear it."

Is he weaving magic into what he says? The rhythm of tension and relaxation of every muscle in my body says it is. The lure in my soul tells me it's just Kalin. Continuing my preparations, I dig my feet into the bed covers and allow another moan to escape my lips. I feel I am in an abyss where Kalin is everywhere yet nowhere.

Kalin's knuckles brush mine and I slip my fingers out. 

_Where is he?_

My breath hitches. My legs quake. Kalin moans into my ear, a tremble that reaches out in one long note. Something slides into me. Those aren't _fingers_. It barely feels like what I thought a penis would feel like either. It's there, yet somehow not there. An object? A passive thing. It doesn't really feel good yet - am I going crazy? His thighs and belly lower onto me which is proof enough of what just happened. He pauses, bringing a hand behind my head.

"It's been a long time since I have done this."

"How long?"

"Long enough that I need to think about what I am doing."

I make a strange noise when something wet covers my saturated fingers. Kalin. His tongue swirls slowly over the slickness and between my finger webbing. It reminds me of his kisses, of his tongue in my mouth. Then his hands lift the underside of my knees. 

"Look at me, Lilah," he suggests. It isn't an order, but I follow him like it is one.

Meeting his regard feels like it makes a whirlpool form in my chest. My head is building with pressure, like it might collapse upon the weight of everything he has ever been and is. He is searching for something in my soul, and I don’t know what it is.

"I love you," I manage.

"Keep your eyes on me," Kalin repeats. My knees are hoisted higher, tilting my hips back. He then pushes his hips harder against me. It's like he _hits_ something inside that was made for his manhood alone to touch. A rush travels up my spine. And he hits my cervix. It hurts for a head splitting moment. 

Darkness. I want to protest. This feels intense. I don't know if it's a pleasant surge or not. Eyelashes fluttering, I fight not to abandon his gaze. 

"How do you feel?" Kalin asks me. 

"I don't know," I admit. 

"Hmm." Maybe this is another project of his: making Lilah orgasm. I don't know if I _can_ orgasm this way. He clearly has a couple of ideas - how many different subcategories are there of missionary anyway?

Kalin pushes my knees towards my chest. I tuck them there, holding them with core strength I somehow have. From here he kisses me. I grab onto his face and kiss him deeper. I hold myself still, wondering what is next. I am hungry for him to push inside me again. The magic is also ravenous. It is tempting to grind against him, force him deeper. But I trust Kalin’s pacing more. 

Quickly, his body fully connects with mine. The sound that escapes me reverberates into his mouth. Bliss without aches. Kalin latches onto my bottom lip with his teeth as he plunges in, then out. Repeat. My mouth is forced open and I make another noise. Kalin feels harder against my walls fighting to keep him there. He must like it. I like it. I am as drenched in sweat as I was soaked by the river in the mountains. This has to stay. I crave for him to know how amazing this sensation is, of everything connected yet simultaneously breaking. I lose track of the cadence and speed. My spirit descends into an abyss. We are trapped in a vortex, a secret portal where no one else can harm us. Our own world. It has weight to it, movement, and I want to be cradled within it. He kisses my bitten lip. It stings, as if he broke the skin. I shift my legs wider and extend my knees. Kalin pushes one of my ankles higher, and swears under his breath as he continues his pace. All I breathe, feel and hear is him. Pleasure rushes from my hips to my head then back down in a ring. I grab onto Kalin, holding him tighter. His breath is laboured, shaking. 

"How does it feel now?" He asks.

I smile. "Incredible." 

"Me too." He smiles back. His eyes glitter. "It's because of you."

Kalin positions my left ankle over his shoulder and holds me close. My legs are not flexible yet they concede to Kalin's experiment. It is exactly where I need to be. Our sweat makes us slip against each other. We are primal. We forget our sensibilities within instinct. 

Kalin makes a noise which resembles words but I can't hear what it is. I snatch his hair and wrap my free leg around him. I kiss his face, his nose, his mouth and he is equally frantic, his breath sending cold ripples over my wet skin. The force of the circular whirls of pleasure intensify as we fight to keep it spinning. A vortex I never want to escape from. We make eye contact. His eyes are shining, full of love and yearning. 

"You're beautiful," he whispers.

 _You're a part of me_ , I think. "Don't leave again."

"I'm right here, Lilah."

That doesn’t feel close enough. I bury my head against his neck.

"Stay," I plead. I trap him between my legs. "You're not leaving." 

A long kiss. He tangles his fingers in my hair. "I am staying for as long as I can." 

That’s not good enough.

"Stay," I repeat. I hear pain in my voice. 

"Lilah, I love you," he says. 

"I love you too."

It is as though my words unlock something within. Kalin suddenly jerks and his fingers dig into my back. A moan escapes between his lips. Then his body slows. This is over. But it can’t be. I hold him tighter as his breathing slows, deepens. Like how we were at the beginning. 

"Thank you," he sighs. 

“I actually didn’t do anything,” I admit. 

Kalin chuckles and shakes his head. “You did everything.” 

“I was probably really bad.” 

“Shh… you were amazing.” 

We rest. The silence feels heavy, like it is a hall full of noise. The rustle of branches moving to the wind outside is calming. The bed covers are a mess, Fatso is pining for food somewhere in the kitchen, but I don’t care. 

Kalin mumbles, "Do you want a reason to scream?"

"Like… a good reason?” 

Kalin chuckles and nods, with a kiss of my ear. 

"Yes," I reply. I don't have time to contemplate how he might do that. Hoisting himself up from either side of me, Kalin slips himself out with awkward, uncoordinated movements. He gives me a final self assured smile before he disappears from on top of me to crawl further down to the edge of the bed that we started from. 

Except something feels different to before, something which isn’t the mere release of tension. He plants a kiss on my belly, “Close your eyes.” 


End file.
